


Don't Even Know My Last Name

by Avidreader6



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, SHIELD recruitment, drunk wedding, married in vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avidreader6/pseuds/Avidreader6
Summary: Phil Coulson wakes up in a suite in Vegas, hungover and with little memory of the night before.





	Don't Even Know My Last Name

Phil wakes to the sun searing through his eyelids and a pounding in his head. He doesn’t remember a lot of what happened last night besides a lot of alcohol, a lot of dancing and a little bit of gambling. His cover was an accountant on vacation, but he may have taken it a bit far. He’d been meant to be making a show out of celebrating a big win while looking for their target in the club. He remembers a man buying him a drink and then another and another and then there was music and his admirer was in his arms and everything after that was a blur.

He sits up slowly, wondering if the bass he’s hearing in just in his own head. Even the slightest bit of movement makes Phil’s stomach flip and he begins questioning whether or not sitting up is that important. After what feels like ages, he leans back against the headboard and hopes that when he opens his eyes again, the room will have stopped spinning. 

“Okay, deep breaths.” Phil carefully opens one eye, relieved to see everything has become stationary. He opens both eyes and lets out the breath he’d been holding. It’s still brighter than he would like, but the bed is soft under him. “Bathroom next.” 

His dreams of hot water pounding down and loosening his muscles are interrupted when he realizes he can hear the water already running in the bathroom. A few things hit him all at once as he realizes he’s not alone. One, he’s completely naked under the sheets. Two, there’s a pleasant soreness in his muscles and three, that is not his suitcase on the floor. 

Phil tips his head back against the headboard with a groan. Phone. He needs to find his phone. His team has to have some idea about what happened last night. A quick peek to his right, at the empty nightstand and Phil groans again. It has to be around here somewhere. Gathering the sheet around his waist, he shakes the blankets, hands feeling around the bed, hoping his phone isn’t just gone. 

When there’s still no sign of the phone, Phil’s eyes drop to the floor. It had to have fallen during whatever transpired last night. He wraps the sheet around him and slowly slides to the floor. He doesn’t notice that the sound of the shower has stopped until there are a pair of wet muscular legs standing right in front of him.

“Help you with something?”

Phil looks up and his mouth goes dry. His eyes linger on a broad chest, and arms that he vaguely remembered being around him as they danced. He watches a droplet of water slide down a muscled stomach and every bit of English vacates Phil's mind. “Um?”

The stranger gives him a crooked smile and offers a hand. “Come on, you must be hungover. I ordered some breakfast. Food and, most importantly, coffee will help you function.” 

“Yeah. Sure.” Phil takes the hand and starts to stand. He only remembers the sheet when it starts to fall. He manages to catch it, just barely and blushes. 

“No need to hide.” The stranger leans in and kisses his cheek, eyes roving over Phil’s entire body. “Pretty sure we saw a whole lot of each other last night.” 

Phil gets flashes of bodies intertwined, moans echoing around the room, his hands holding down that beautiful body as he pounded into it. “Right. Yeah.” 

Something must have shown on Phil’s face because his beautiful stranger leans in again, mouth at Phil’s ear. “It’s Clint.” 

Face hotter, Phil swallows the lump in his throat. “Right. Clint.” He remembers a smile at the bar and a drink sent his way. “Phil. I’m Phil.” 

Clint’s arm slides around his waist. “I know.” He nuzzles at Phil’s neck. “I said it quite a lot last night.” 

There’s a knock on the door and Clint smiles. “You grab a robe. I’ll get our food. Sound good?” 

All Phil can do is nod. Clint walks toward the door and Phil takes a moment to appreciate that backside wrapped in white terry cloth. He finds a robe in the closet and pulls it on, sighing at the softness on his skin. He grabs the other for Clint and it’s then that he realizes they’re in a suite. 

He’s not sure how or when that happened. His actual room is on a lower floor and is much smaller. He’s supposed to be an accountant, he didn’t need a big room. He walks out into the next room and hands Clint the robe, eyes surveying the food spread out on the table. 

“Wasn’t sure what you liked, so got a bit of everything.” 

Phil looks over and is a little sad to see Clint’s body covered in the robe. “Thanks. How’d we land a suite?” He takes a seat on the couch and begins filling a plate. ”Pretty sure when I got here, I only had a basic room. Very basic.”

Clint snags a piece of bacon as he takes his own seat. He moans when he takes a bite. “It’s my suite. Came into some money and treated myself.”

Phil’s nose leads him to the coffee pot and he pours them both a cup. “Must have been a good chunk of change.” 

“It was decent,” he drawls, sipping on his coffee.

Clint sprawls on the sofa, legs spread and Phil blushes when he realizes the towel Clint had been wearing has been discarded somewhere. He catches Phil looking and smirks. He spreads his legs wider, the hem of the robe moving up those strong thighs as he does. 

“I’ve got nowhere to be today. And it is technically our honeymoon, after all.” 

Distracted by each little bit of skin revealed, Phil almost misses what Clint just said. When his brain catches up, he chokes on his coffee. “I’m sorry. What? Did you say, honeymoon?”

“We got married last night.” Clint holds up his left hand, showing off a cheap looking gold ring. “The chapel emailed me the video. Apparently, we sprung for the deluxe package.” 

Fury is never going to let Phil live this down. Maria or May, either. It’s fine, Jasper is more fun to hang out with anyway. Surely, quickie divorces are a thing in Vegas. He wants to say something, ask questions, but all he can get out is, “married?”

Clint moves over to Phil’s couch and sits next to him. He’s close enough that Phil can smell his shampoo and see there’s a scar just below his jaw. “Yup. We both said ‘I do,’ and everything.” He pulls up the video and passes the phone to Phil. 

Phil watches them stand at the altar, an Elvis impersonator going through the ceremony. They both look surprisingly steady and stable, only swaying a little bit. When it gets to the, “you may now kiss your husband,” Phil watches as he pulls Clint in for a passionate kiss. 

“Wow.”

Clint rests his chin on Phil’s shoulder, his breath feathering over Phil’s cheek when he speaks. “Yeah, I know. That really was an incredible kiss.” There’s a bit of wistfulness in Clint’s voice and Phil knows he does remember that kiss. And since you don’t quite remember it, wanna give it another go?” 

Eyes still locked on the video, Phil stares at the two of them smiling and laughing as they hold onto each other for balance. He has to admit, he doesn’t remember the last time he was that happy. He turns his head to look at Clint and he closes the distance to kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“Can we talk a little first? I feel bad that I don’t remember much of last night.” His cheeks heat and he chews on his lower lip. “I remember bits and pieces. I remember feeling really good and laughing.” He smiles at Clint. “I remember laughing a lot.” 

“We did laugh a lot. Drunk you finds bad puns really funny. And drunk me knows a lot of bad puns.” Clint’s smile is bright and makes his eyes sparkle. “What do you want to know?”

“Okay, first things first. Full name and where are you from?”

“Clinton,” Clint makes a face, “Francis Barton. I’m from Iowa but live all over now. Lots of traveling.”

Phil can sense there’s more there, but he doesn’t push for now. He’s still undercover himself, so he can’t judge too much. “Phillip J. Coulson. Born in Wisconsin. Age-accountant.” 

He winces at the slip. He feels so comfortable with Clint, he let his guard down a little too much. 

“What the J stand for.” 

Relieved that Clint didn’t notice his fumble, Phil grins. “You gotta earn that.” 

Clint pouts and it looks like he’s about to move in for a kiss, when he stops and leans away, shifting to the other end of the couch, putting some distance between them. “Shit. Phil, there’s something you need to know.” 

“Clint? Are you okay?” He observes the way Clint seems to have curled in on himself and starts to worry. “Whatever it is, Clint, we can fix it.” 

Clint says nothing, just stands and walks into the bedroom. When he comes out, he drops Phil’s phone in his lap. “First, when I met you, I had no clue who you were or anything, I need you to know that.” 

“Okay.” Phil looks at the phone in his hands and leaves it dark. He wants to hear what Clint has to say. “Clint, what is going on?”

“Second, when I woke up, your phone was ringing. At first, I was just going to silence the call, go back to sleep and maybe wake you up later for some morning sex. Then I saw the messages you’d missed from last night.”

Pieces start to click into place and Phil feels all the blood drain from his face. “I can explain. SHIELD is-” 

Clint holds up a hand, cutting him off. “I know what SHIELD is, but I need to explain first. I didn’t lie about my name, but for the work I do, I go by another name. And strangely enough, you and I have met before.” 

Phil is more than a little confused now. “What are you talking about?”

“My work. It requires a code name, call sign, whatever you want to call it. I never miss, Phil.” Clint pulls at a thread on his robe and sees the wheels turning in Phil’s head. “You’ve been chasing me for a while now, Coulson.” 

“No.” Phil stands, backing away from Clint. “You’re not?” 

“Hawkeye?” Clint stays seated, not moving toward Phil at all, giving him plenty of chances to leave if he needed. “That’s me. Was my name from my time in the circus. Phil, I do need you to know, I had no idea who you were when we met last night. I just thought you were a really good looking guy, in a hot as fuck suit, who wanted to dance.”

“Why did you let it go this far? Why marry me? Some idea that SHIELD will let you go because you managed to trick one of their agents. I am here in Vegas because we heard you might be here for a hit.” 

“I was. Turns out the person who hired me lied about the mark. So I took the money for the hit and decided to have some fun. That’s why I was at the club where we met.” Clint starts to stand, but when he sees Phil flinch, he sits back down. “I didn’t know who you were til this morning. Your phone was ringing. It woke me up. I saw the messages from your team and connected the dots.” 

Phil wants to tell himself Clint is lying and this is all just a game to the assassin. Looking into Clint’s eyes, his gut tells him Clint is being honest. “I want to believe you, Clint. I really do. And it’s not just because you’re giving me sad puppy eyes.” Clint smirks and Phil holds up a hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. There is a lot to figure out.”

Clint holds out his hand. “I know. Sit with me again?” 

“I don’t know. I’m currently very aware that I’m not wearing anything under this robe.”

Those stormy blue eyes sparkle as Clint looks him up and down. “You’re only now aware of that fact?” 

“Stop that.” Phil pulls the robe tighter around his body.

“Too late.” Clint teases. “I’ve seen you naked, Coulson. It’s forever in my memory now.” 

Phil grabs a pillow and throws it at him. “I don't have any clean clothes here, do I?”

“Nope.” Clint pats the spot on the couch next to him. “Unless you want to wear something of mine.”

It’s clear Clint likes the idea of Phil in his clothes, so Phil decides to take him up on his offer. “Deal. Where are they?”

“Really?”

“Really. We need to be dressed for this. And I need to call my team.” Clint’s eyes stray to the door and Phil sits quickly and takes his hand. “We never wanted to take you out. I’ve been following you for a long time. I’ve seen the kills you do take and you only go after the worst sorts of people. We’ve wanted to recruit you.”

“You wanted to recruit me?” Clint looks down at the gaudy gold of their wedding bands. “Rumor has it, if SHIELD is after you, it means they want to make you disappear.”

“Sometimes. But only with the worst people.” Clint looks so young sitting there and Phil feels his heart skip. “First we need clothes. I’m already going to get hell for this, but I’m going to be dressed when I do.”

“Hell for marrying the person you were supposed to recruit or hell for?” 

Phil knows what Clint is asking and he decides to just go for it. He married the man after all. He kisses Clint quickly. “Hell for marrying our mark. Anyone gives you hell for your sexual preferences, they will find themselves having to talk to the director about how SHIELD is an accepting and inclusive place and if they cannot understand that, they need to find work elsewhere.”

Relieved, Clint presses in for another kiss. “Good.” He rests his forehead against Phil’s. “Are you sure we need to get dressed? Can I make a case for shower sex? Or even a quickie in bed? It’s still technically our honeymoon.”

Cupping Clint’s face in his hands, Phil allows himself one last thorough kiss. “Tempting, especially because I would like to remember it this time, but no, we need to get this done. There’s going to be a lot of paperwork.”

“Does that include paperwork for a divorce?”

It’s hard to tell if Clint sounds more sad or worried about that possibility, and Phil finds himself sad thinking about it as well. “Only if you want there to be. I’m not an impulsive guy.” Clint snorts and Phil adds, “usually.”

“You’d want to give this a shot?” 

Phil remembers the video and the looks on both their faces as they said their vows. “I’d be willing to give us a shot. Date. Get to know one another better. See if we really can make this work. My only condition would be that you accept SHIELD’s offer. Work with the good guys.” 

“You drive a hard bargain, Phil Coulson. Or should it be, Phil Barton? Barton-Coulson? Coulson-Barton?”

“Let’s stick with just Coulson, for now.”

“Deal.” He holds out a hand and Phil takes it and shakes. “On all of it. Us. SHIELD. All of it.”


End file.
